by E. Landaeer, Esq.
Sonnet. To Hope
Lines, written on the Sixth of September
Sonnet. To Charity
Hymn
Reflections of a Poet on going to a great Dinner
Sunday
A Night-Storm
On the Death of Nelson
The Blue-eyed Maid
Taking Orders. A Tale, founded on fact
The Gipsy's Home. A Glee
Sonnet. The Beggar
To ------
Song. "The Recal of the Hero."
To Eliza. Written in her Album
Elegy on the Death of A. Goldsmid, Esq.
Sonnet. On the Death of Mrs. Charlotte Smith
Mister Punch. A Hasty Sketch
Content
Epitaph. On Matilda
To ------. An Impromptu
The Steam-Boat
Sonnet To Lydia, on her Birth-day
To Sarah, while Singing
To Thaddeus
Youth and Age
Sent for the Album of the Rev. G----- C-----
Written under an elegant Drawing of a Dead Canary Bird
Lines suggested by the Death of the Princess Charlotte
The Presumptuous Fly
The Heroes of Waterloo
The Night-blowing Cereus
1827; or, the Poet's Last Poem
To the Reviewers

POEMS.

Tis sweet in boyhood's visionary mood,
When glowing Fancy, innocently gay,
Flings forth, like motes, her bright aerial brood,
To dance and shine in Hope's prolific ray;
'Tis sweet, unweeting how the flight of years
May darkling roll in trials and in tears,
To dress the future in what garb we list,
And shape the thousand joys that never may exist.
But he, sad wight! of all that feverish train,
Fool'd by those phantoms of the wizard brain,
Most wildly dotes, whom young ambition stings
To trust his weight upon poetic wings;
He, downward looking in his airy ride,
Beholds Elysium bloom on every side;
Unearthly bliss each thrilling nerve attunes,
And thus the dreamer with himself communes.
Yes! Earth shall witness, 'ere my star be set,
That partial nature mark'd me for her pet;
That Phoebus doom'd me, kind indulgent sire!
To mount his car, and set the world on fire.
Fame's steep ascent by easy flights to win,
With a neat pocket volume I'll begin;
And dirge, and sonnet, ode, and epigram,
Shall show mankind how versatile I am.
The buskin'd Muse shall next my pen descry:
The boxes from their inmost rows shall sigh;
The pit shall weep, the galleries deplore
Such moving woes as ne'er were heard before:
Enough--I'll leave them in their soft hysterics,
Mount, in a brighter blaze, and dazzle with Homerics.

Then, while my name runs ringing through Reviews,
And maids, wives, widows, smitten with my Muse,
Assail me with Platonic _billet-doux_.
From this suburban attic I'll dismount,
With Coutts or Barc